Say When And My Own Two Hands Will Comfort You
by Blue-Eyed-Wall
Summary: "The man in a mask, the flailing of her legs, her petrified face as she desperately tried to fight back as she failed to breathe properly was all too real. Adam didn't know what to do." SPOILER ALERT: Spoilers for 'Unfriendly Chat' - 7x02. Adam/Sass.


**NOTE: I watched 'Unfriendly Chat' and I immediately thought of my favourite song by **_**The Fray**_** and I realised how well the song went with the episode. In that episode I felt for Adam and I **_**so**_** wanted to give him a hug and never let him go! This not only shows Adam's feelings, but this one-shot also delves deeper in his past, revealing some secrets that we don't know.**

_**Song: 'Say When' – The Fray**_

_I see you there,_

_Don't know where you come from,_

_Unaware of a stare from someone,_

_Don't appear to care that I saw you,_

_I want you._

The unknown woman danced for him as he watched her, mesmerised by her hips, her waist, her legs, her arms, her hands, her body, her movements. Everything she done was perfect yet not prepared, not polished. Adam had stared at the screen as she moved lithely for him, a small blush rising to his cheeks as he did so. The stranger didn't seem to care that Adam was practically drooling, that he stared at her with joy and a slight bit of want.

_What's your name? 'Cause I have to know it,_

_You let me in and begin to show it,_

_We're terrified 'cause we're heading,_

_Straight for it, might get it._

He typed in 'What's you name?', knowing that he had to know the beautiful woman's name as she danced more freely, and her smile had taken over her perfect face. She was letting Adam in; allowing Adam The Stranger to see her true self, letting Adam see and feel what she saw and felt thought she barely knew him. Adam was terrified, thought. He didn't know why he was so terrified, whether it was the nerves of seeing such and angel or the feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him to close the window and to not care what may or may not happen after he did so.

_Hear the song playing in the background,_

_All alone but you're turning up now,_

_And everyone is rising to meet you, to greet you._

As the unknown song to Adam played in the background, she kept dancing freely, smiling without a care in the world. The flirty way that she smiled when she looked into the camera made Adam feel known, special – he felt as if he were the only one to see her dance. That was something that Adam doubted. Adam knew that other people had seen her dance just as he saw her now – wasn't 'the one'; he was just another sucker for a female dancer on the computer screen. Adam could imagine people standing up to meet her, to give her their seat, even if they had never het her before. Just like Adam hadn't, but he was willing to give her his seat on the bus or in a restaurant.

_Turn around and you're walking to me,_

_I'm breaking down and you're breathing slowly,_

_Say the word and I will be your man,_

_Your man._

She turned around and walked towards the screen as if it automatically zoomed in on the angel and Adam felt like crying. Why? There she was, the perfect picture of beauty, dancing for him (sort of), her chest rising and falling with the steady and slow beat of her breath. Adam knew that at that point if she told him to jump off a cliff, her would; if she told him to jump into a ravine which he would surely not survive, he would; if she said that she wanted him to be her man, he bloody well would.

_Say when and my own two hands,_

_Will comfort you tonight, tonight,_

_Say when and my own two arms_

_Will carry you tonight, tonight._

At first Adam didn't know what was happening. He didn't know if it was real or a hoax. It certainly looked real. The man in a mask, the flailing of her legs, her petrified face as she desperately tried to fight back as she failed to breathe properly was all too real. Adam didn't know what to do. Call Mac? Record the possible murder? Laugh? Turn it off? Run away? Adam had sat there, paralysed for a few seconds, horror easily seen on his face as he realised the truth: he was watching a woman being murdered, and he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't save her. She was there while he sat at the Lab, sneaking off to a site that he shouldn't be on, watching her life being snuffed out of her.

_We're coming close and then even closer,_

_We bring it in but we get no further,_

_We're separate, two ghosts in one mirror,_

_No nearer._

Adam stared at the screen, willing the mouse to go quicker, begging the man on the other end who held power over the angel's life or death in his hands to stop, pause, take a breath –_ anything_. Adam begged the angel to hold on for a moment longer, take one more breath, make her heart beat on more time; Adam willed her to fight and win but he couldn't say anything other than a constant stream on 'no, no, no, no's'. Like his father had said once while beating Adam: he was weak, pathetic, and worthless to everyone. No one cared about him. All he was to others was a pawn in the chessboard; he was easily replaceable to them all. But there he was, trying to save a woman the terror of the afterlife – if there even was one – knowing that her family, friends and colleagues would never know what had really happened to her, how much she had really fought, how much she wanted to live a little bit longer, whether that be a day, a month, a year – just something to give her a shine of hope in the grey clouds of NYC.

_Later on if it turns to chaos,_

_Hurricane coming all around us,_

_See the crack; pull it back,_

_From the window, you stay low._

Adam heard her equipment crashing to the floor, breaking into pieces, the beautiful music ending in harmony as the angel kicked and thrashed against her soon-to-be killers hold. She dropped to the floor, her eyes staring into Adam's for a moment, blank and void unlike the girl that he had seen only two minutes before. Two minutes ago she was lively and joyous. She was free. The connection ended.

_Say when and in my own two hands,_

_Will comfort you tonight, tonight,_

_Say when and my own two arms,_

_Will carry you tonight, tonight._

Adam ran down the flights of stairs, praying that for some reason that Mac was still there, hoping that by some miracle Mac knew that something was going to happen so he paused for a second or so. The car park was grey and cold, resembling the mood that Adam was in and the fact that he had witnessed a murder only a minute ago. The truth of what had happened finally set in, sending Adam into inner turmoil, memories of painful characters in his life becoming real once again in his mind, their hurtful and shaming words being cast around his mind, reminding him of the failure he was to his family. He wasn't good enough, not quick enough, not smart enough, not strong enough – he wasn't anything but 'the geek'. Labelled as 'the geek' since ay young age set him back in his sights, throwing back the possibilities that he could reach.

_I come across you lost and broken,_

_You're coming to but you're slow in waking,_

_You start to shake; you still haven't spoken,_

_What happened?_

_They're coming back and you just don't know when,_

_You want to cry but there's nothing coming,_

_They're going to push you until you give in,_

_Or say when._

_Now we're here and it turns to chaos,_

_Hurricane coming all around us,_

_Double crack throws you back,_

_From the window, you stay low._

Seeing her lay there on her floor, the devastation of her fight for life now real and _there_ struck a chord in Adam. He had seen her last moments of life. Not her parents, her sister or brother, her family or friends – him. Adam Ross, son of Jonathon and Marie Ross, 'the geek', the weirdo of the entire family. He was the person that didn't seem to fit into any clique. Adam was the pariah of the family, ignored and simply unloved. All Sass wanted was to love and to be loved, to live and to be known to have lived.

_It all began with a man and a country,_

_Every plan turn another century around again,_

_Another nation fallen._

_May be God can be on bother side of the gun,_

_Never understood why some of us get it so good, so good._

_Some of this was here before us,_

_All of this will go after us,_

_It never stops until we give in, give in._

No one knew what Adam Ross done that whole night, and no one knew whose name he called out: Sass' name. Sass was the fifth grade girl that he shared his first kiss with, and he only realised it when he saw her apartment when he stood in it. He looked around and noticed her little quirks that she had kept, the pictures she still had of them as young children. She even had the one where she was covered in bruises after she had protected Adam from his drunken father when she had slept over at his house; she had hidden them using her mother's make-up, adding mascara and blush if she had the time – all to impress Adam. Adam's second kiss was with Sass, too. They were leaving lower school to go into high school and Sass has leaned in slightly, looking at Adam from under her thick lashes, biting her lip nervously. Did she remember him? Most likely not. He wasn't someone that girls easily remembered. He was more the friend of the friend of the friend of the friend that had a friend that got all the girls to surround him. He was practically invisible. He was invisible to the man, too, until he was seen on the screen. Bruised and bloodied, the newfound man of Adam sat in his apartment, holding a picture of Sass and him kissing each other and laughing. If only she remembered . . .

_Or say when and my own two hands,_

_Will comfort you tonight, tonight,_

_Say when and my own two arms,_

_Will carry you tonight, tonight._

Adam wanted to be carried and comforted for one more night.

_Say when and my own two hands,_

_Will comfort you tonight, tonight._

Just one more night.

**NOTE: Oh. My. Gosh. Five pages of Calibri, font size 12! I worked hard on this, and I hope it shows. I know, I know – it's **_**very**_** angsty at points, and I definitely meant to make it so, but I just realised the extent of it. I noticed that in the show we never found out who the dark-haired 5****th**** grade girl was, so I made up for that lack of information by using the information that I had been given and twisting it to fit this song fiction. Remember: RATE & REVIEW!**


End file.
